


Bagged Up Emotion

by TwistedViolets



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Angst, Drug Use, Emotional Manipulation, Family Issues, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Klaus Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Luther Hargreeves Being an Asshole, Missions, Physical Abuse, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting, Running Away, Sibling Rivalry, scapegoating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:40:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24531682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwistedViolets/pseuds/TwistedViolets
Summary: Klaus was Seventeen when he knew he had to leave. There wasn't much debate in the matter, it wasn't like Ben was going to stop him.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 68





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just a concept that has been sitting in my drafts.
> 
> There are probably a few typos but I’ll get there eventually. I’m not sure if I’ll add more to this or not.
> 
> There’s no rape/non con but I tagged it as such since If I ever did continue this story there would be some.

"Now Klaus," Luther hisses, shoving him without much concern for his wellbeing nor the fact that he's been hyperventilating ever since they entered the building. How else was he supposed to cope with this- them? All these god damn ghosts who cling to him like he's the savior they've been waiting for all their life.

"We don't have time for this," Luther hisses, yanking his hand, cracking something inside his palm causing him to cry out in pain. "Ask someone for directions now or so help me I'll-"

"Hold on," he pants, heat already building in his eyes as tears threatened to spill down his cheeks. It wasn't like he didn't want to ask for directions through this hell hole of a maze but how is he supposed to do that when he can barely hear himself think?

Eyes closed, hands unsteady, he attempts to move away from Luther but his hand is held tightly and each small movement brings about a pain unlike any other. "Klaus," Diego said, pacing the room, ensuring there were no other people around.

"Right,”he mumbled, taking a chance, he can't do this. He can't do what they need him to and he's sorry but that's just how it is. 

Luther lets go and instructs Diego to take the left just Incase because 'Klaus's powers are garbage and we shouldn't trust them,' and instructs Allison to go with him.

They leave him there to rub his palm that has started to swell up, red and- he cries. "Luther didn't mean to," Ben said, maybe. He honestly doesn't know anymore, at some point all the voices sound like one. "Later he'll apologize...it's just during missions he gets so worked up and it's hard for him."

"He broke a bone, Ben. I'm starting to think my family is worse than the bad guys...I mean when's the last time I had a broken bone? Oh, that's right- when Diego decided to punch me over tickets to that boxing match and broke my nose. That stung for weeks," he crouched down, hands around his stomach, a sickening dropping feeling registering as he hears the mumbled yells of his siblings.

"What's wrong?"

He ignores Ben. Deep breath in, deep breath out, and then he opens his eyes and surprise there's a little girl looking at him, smiling. She opens her lips to grin and inside her mouth is full of bloody screws that she licks wetly until she's drooling blood onto the concrete.

"Fuck," he mumbled, burying his face in his hands, ignoring the subtle calling of his name over and over again.

He doesn't know how long he sits there like that. For all, he knows it could have been five minutes or three hours. Not like any of that matters, nothing matters. Life is meaningless and has brought him continuous pain.

"Duck," someone yells, and he brings his head out of his hands for a split second just to see his siblings running out of the left side before dropping to the floor just as a huge thud erupted somewhere and a shake to the very ground he was crouched on. Before another breath could be taken red hot flames traced along the walls and heavy smoke followed his siblings as they stood and ran past him, Allison grabbing his arm and pulling him along when he had become entranced by the call of the void.

For a moment all he could see was that fire and how he could very much throw himself inside, feel the searing burn, and meet the calm release of death.

"Pick up your feet," Allison yells at him, grip on his arm increasing as he's dragged away. Luther mumbled something incoherent and Diego scoffed.

...

"Just how did this break happen?" His father looked at him over the pictures of the X-rays.

He feels small, insignificant, so much of a burden when his father looks down at him like this. Like he's nothing but some nuisance that had stuck itself to his side. A parasite more like, and of course he couldn't help but feel some sense of discomfort as he shifted on the cot.

His mother smiling on his other side, wrapping his hand with no indication that she realizes he's being judged.

"It was...one of the dudes with guns. You know how it goes, dad. I get kidnapped, someone saves me, it's really nothing too complicated. I'll do better next time, promise."

His father did not look impressed with him. An eyebrow raised as he looks back over the X-Ray for a brief second. "Now Number Four, I would never dream of accusing you of lying to me but I can't help but notice this is an incredibly clean break. It would have to have been done with an incredible force of strength that perhaps Number One would be capable of."

He fights the urge to look away from his father's harsh glare. His eyes staring deep into his soul as if he already knew every single thing that had occurred during his life- and it was violating to know how true that was. At this point, he wouldn't be surprised if his father had chipped and tapped him as if he was a wild animal to observed.

"It wasn't Luther."

His father said nothing, simply clipping the X-Rays to a clipboard before placing it at the end of his cot. "I suppose then you won't mind extra training this week. Obviously, you are becoming rusty with your new-found hobby of ruining your bloodstream with whatever foul substances you can find on the streets."

He nods.

His father leaves without another word.

His mother finishes wrapping his hand. "Does it hurt?" She asks and he looks at her straight in the eyes before bursting into tears. Sobbing so incoherently that when she pulls him into her warm embrace she knows he's soaking her dress and if he didn't have a part to play he'd be grinning at what a great actor he's become.

His mother coos to him, rubbing his back before kissing his forehead. "It's okay sweetheart. I'll get you medication for the pain."

He grins when she disappears to the pill cabinet.

...

He waits for this magical apology he's supposed to get from Luther. But, as he suspected, he doesn't get one. "You gave us shitty directions," Luther said while cleaning up a few scratches on his arm. "You're lucky I've come to expect such little from you. If I hadn't sent Diego left we probably would have been screwed."

"Luther-"

"Speaking of which, you should have heard him ranting."

"Luther I- my ha-"

"He was so pissed at you that he threw at a blade at a hot water pipe and gave some guy a third-degree burn."

"Luther you broke my hand."

Luther looks at him strangely for a minute before shrugging his shoulder. "My bad," he said like it was nothing, like it wasn't a broken bone but a glass of water that had spilled. Like it was just a mistake that could be cleaned up in a minute and not a three-week lasting pain he has to deal with. 

He doesn't say a word, he just walks out of Luther's room fighting through gritting teeth. He took the fall for Luther, accepting all the scolding from his father and he doesn't even get a proper apology.

He's tired of this, of everything. Of being ignored, forgotten, a punching bag of convenience, and a scapegoat whenever his siblings don't feel like owning up to their mistakes.

He wants to get high, every day, every moment of his life so he doesn't have to face the truth of what his life has been, what life has been made for him by a man who cares less for him than he cares about a speck of dirt on a penny on the side of the road rolling towards a sewer grate.

...

A night in the mausoleum is more than torture itself. It's like Hell but worse, if only because he's not tied down and the door is right there but he's not strong enough to escape and even if he could all he does is coward in a corner while screaming until his ears are pounding and a sharp pain radiates from his bleeding fingernails.

All he can do is close his eyes and cry to his father who for all he knows can't hear a single word he's screaming. Not all his promises to be better. Not all his promises to be the good boy his father wants. Nothing, absolutely nothing.

He figures out right then and there that he wants to leave, he needs to. He can't stand it anymore, the nights in the mausoleum, paying the price for someone else's fall. 

His siblings don't care about him, don't love him, barely even acknowledge his existence unless they need something from him or much more disgustingly, want to tease him just to make themselves feel better.

He's going to leave. No one will miss him and he won't let anyone talk him out of it-pff as if anyone would try to.

...

He snatches a suitcase from the attic, one that he only used once on a mission when he was younger. When they went across the country for a week and saw some of the most beautiful sights. Back when Ben was alive and Five was here and things were just so much simpler.

He starts to pack a few things a night as to not raise suspicion. Although he knows no one would care anyway.

"Klaus you...this is a big step don't you think? Why don't you just think about this before you make any rash decisions."

"I've made up my mind," he placed the final outfit inside. All of his clothes were the same except for a skirt he had stolen from Allison and a crop top he had traded an autograph for.

Ben said nothing more but gave him a saddened look of disapproval.

...

He waits until the full week is up so that he can take off his bandage. He knows his hand isn't exactly healed but he definitely doesn't want to go onto the streets appearing injured.

He eats dinner without dilly-dallying, even getting a second plate full. Tonight's the night he's leaving, with full hopes of never coming back to this godforsaken place and the hellish company he had to put up with for years.

Years of Diego teasing him about his girlish looks and his twiggy arms. Years of Luther making fun of him wearing skirts and him being so very useless on missions. Years of him being rumored to be the center of a joke. 

Years of him being forced to laugh when he was in pain.

He's over it.

He just wants to be numb forever.

As he walks to the bathroom to brush his teeth, Vanya stops him. "Are you okay?" She asks so softly that he barely heard her.

"Of course? Why wouldn't I be?" He grinned and she looked away from him.

"You've been quiet."

He shrugs his shoulders before flicking her forehead lightly. "Can't a guy take a break from being an annoyance for a week without being heckled?"

"Sorry."

He wraps his hands around her, giving her a hug. It just seemed the right thing to do...after all, it's probably the last time he'll ever see her.

...

"Aren't you even going to leave a note?" Ben asked, looking over at him with his arms crossed his chest in disagreement with his actions.

He rolls his eyes before tossing his suitcase out of Five's window. It takes only three seconds to fall and make the dullest thud he's ever heard. "No one will miss me anyway. What's the point?"

He steps out on to the fire escape before shutting the window behind him. He starts descending down the ladder. 

"Well you see Klaus, I don't know if it's occurred to you or not but they are your family and they will be worried."

"Only in my dreams, Benny."

He grabs his suitcase, shakes off any dirt before extending the handle and dragging it behind with a crackle and pop as he walks. Where? He hasn't quite decided but perhaps a homeless shelter would be a good place to start- just about seven or eight blocks away from here if he recounts correctly. 

From there he'll figure out the rest of his plans.

...

By the time he makes it to the homeless shelter it's pouring outside, he's soaked to the bone and in major need of a hot shower. He wanders inside, finding darkened hall after darkened hall. The main office area is lit up but whoever was supposed to man it has gone missing.

His suitcase seems much heavier now that it's soaked he drags it behind him with little care. He doesn't know what he was thinking with it. What does he need any material possessions for? They'll probably just get stolen here anyway.

He finds himself in a room of bunk beds, six of them to be exact. With each bed full except for the last one in the darken right corner of the room, which has a bottom bunk free. He slides his suitcase underneath the bunk bed before looking briefly up to the man sleeping above. 

He's in his late twenties at least, darkened hair, broad shoulders, a terrible snore. He shivers as he looks at that end of the bunk, at the name that has been labeled for this bunk. Seeming as this man, this- Adam Cane seemed to be a more permanent guest here.

He slips into the thin blanket of the bottom bunk, it feels just the littlest more sniff than the beds at home.

He feels his stomach knotting up as he stares at the bed above him, as he listens to foreign snores. He's not home anymore.

...

"Sir? Sir!"

He awakes with a jolt, cracking his head off the top bunk as he sits upright, forgetting for a moment where he's at. "God, can't a guy get any decent sleep around here?" He mumbled lowly before looking at a woman who's glare is uncomfortably close to the glare of his father.

"Excuse me sir but who are you?"

"Klaus Redwood," he yawned as she peered closely at him. He's glad he has enough brainpower so early to remember not to give out his real name. One mention of 'Hargreeves,' and surely an entire media crew will be called here.

"And just how old are you?"

"Seventeen," he said before he could stop himself. In his defense, he hadn't thought anyone would ask his age or that it would matter any because his age has never matter.

But apparently, it does now.

"I'm sorry but there's no admission under eighteen unless you're accompanying someone-"

"But I am," he blurts out, punching the bunk above him and smiling through the sudden yelp of surprise Adam makes. "I'm with my big brother. We’ve got different mothers though.”

Her eyes narrow before looking at Adam. "Is that true?"

Adam above him is silent for a good while and he's searching the room for the best escape point. What was he thinking coming here? That he could just blend in-tough chance in hell when he's years younger than everyone else.

"Yeah he's mine," Adam sounded half asleep, his words slurring and then the bed creaks and Adam hops off of it with a groan. His knees creaking when he hits the floor, clearly too old for the acrobatics. "Why you've got a problem with him?"

"Well- no sir but you do have to fill out a few papers for him."

"Well, where are they?" Adam said lazily leaning forward into the woman's personal space, making her uncomfortable.

"Follow me, please. They’re in my office."

Adam trails behind the woman before looking over his shoulder and giving him a look of 'you owe me one.'

He lets go of a breath he didn't even know he was holding before flopping back into the bed with a smile on his lips.

...

He finds the bathroom only a few rooms down from the bunks. The toilets are in stalls but showers are only divided by a small shower curtain. He ignores that though, not like he's one for privacy, and he strips his clothes off and leaves them in a pile. He steps in the first shower area and turns on the hot water. 

He uses an already provided bar of soap, although he tries not to think where it's been. He scrubs his body free of wet dog scent and washes his hair free of any dirt and sweat.

When he steps out of the shower and grabs the provided towel on a hook, he is alarmed to find his clothes missing. Completely gone without a trace, and well his skin crawls as he's forced to walk back to his bunk, only protected by a thin towel.

He passed a few people who looked too long on his legs and his chest and he couldn't help but feel like the room was getting smaller. 

Adam is on his bed, book in his hand, and when he looks at him he's smiling in a shit-eating manner. "Looks like someone has broken you in. That kind of shit happens all the time around here- so if you value anything you better keep it on you."

"Too late for that advice now don't you think?" He spat defensively, quite pissed that he had to walk the halls like this.

He digs through his suitcase which luckily still contained his clothes although it did look like someone snooped through it. He slips on one of his outfits while simultaneously trying to keep the towel around him. It takes extreme discipline but he manages alright.

"So where did you blow in from, huh? You look very familiar...Klaus."

He freezes for a moment, noting the way Adam's eyes are locked on his so fully in a way he's not used to. 

"Nowhere," he answered, zipping the bag closed before shoving it underneath the bed. He sits on his bed with a huff.

"Aw, that's not very nice. You owe me one don't cha? I promise I'll keep it hush-hush."

"None of your business."

"Really?" Adam said, the bed creaking as he shifted before extending his hand over the side of the top bunk to display a baggie of pills. "How many of these until you open your pretty lips?"

"All of them," he barked back although he knew Adam wouldn't give them up. If he's an addict he'd very well fight tooth and nail to keep them not just offer them up like candy.

"Deal."

The bag falls straight into his lap and he sits there frozen for a good moment before he opens the bag and downs three right then and there. He couldn't help himself.

"I-I live in the city. I was isolated from my peers for a long time...in this hellish place I don't like to think of."

The man makes a noise but suddenly it sounds good. It sounds good to him because he's feeling numb, he's feeling nothing. He's feeling like the world is his to do with.

"I was part of the Umbrella Academy-if you couldn't tell from this stupid ass uniform."

"Figured," Adam makes a clicking noise with his tongue. "I think you and I are going to have a lot of fun, kid."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so sorry! I promised myself I wasn’t going to add more but I’m adding more.
> 
> Please forgive me :(
> 
> This is a rough draft, this whole story basically is. Super sorry about that but this is just a concept thing really.

If he was smarter he would have turned down Adam's deceleration of 'friendship,' but as it is he just laughs. Ben shakes his head no but what does Ben know about this? It's none of Ben's concern.

He downs a few more pills.

"I've got a car," Adam said, whispered lowly more like. "You know someone will come for you if you stay here but...I'd be happy to let to skip town with me."

"Sounds like fun," he said back or maybe he didn't. His hands are on fire and his vision is blurring but he can't feel a thing in his mind and that's the way he likes it.

One moment he's on the bed downing pills under Ben's disappointing glare and the next he's hugging a suitcase by his side and laughing like a maniac as Adam picks the lock of a blue car with nice little stickers portraying a perfect family.

What a joke, as if those stickers were anything other than some father's attempt at appearing to care about his family when in truth he barely cares about them any more than objects. Not that he's speaking from personal experience but maybe just maybe he can relate.

"Hop in baby boy," Adam said sweetly, opening the passenger door for him. 

"On to nicknames already?" He giggles but really he was so far gone that he was honestly functioning on two brain cells and Ben wasn't here to tell him he's making a mistake. Trusting a stranger like this has to be the biggest mistake he’s ever made but he's young and invincible. 

What's the worse that could happen?

...

He’s drifting in and out of sleep and the only thing he knows is that a hand was on his knee and he really didn't know why it felt so strange. Not like he didn't know that it was but like he couldn't register it in the right place. His mind is numb, straight-up dead inside right now, but his body is on fire from that touch and he knows it's disgusting.

He knows he's in a bad place somewhere deep down but all he can do is lean against the window and sleep off his high.

...

'Number Four of the Umbrella Academy is nowhere to be seen! Just what happened to the séance you all love and know? Stay tuned, we've got an all exclusive interview from Space Boy himself-" Adam turns off the radio.

"You don't need to listen to that."

He blinks a few times barely glancing into the rearview mirror to see Ben, hood over his head, silent. The drugs have gotten him down in the dumps.

...

"I bet your name isn't even Adam," he slurs as they pull into the backside of a gas station. Adam searches every Car compartment he can and he finds a crisp twenty-dollar bill.

"What makes you say that?" Adam said turning to him with a playful expression.

"Your name- it was written on the bunk- so I obviously assumed it was yours but that was just an assumption. No one else had names on their bunks, right? So Why would you put yours on the bunk, especially since you had no personal objects? I think you just put it there as a reminder to yourself...so you wouldn’t accidentally forget what name you decided to go by.”

Adam smirks but shrugs his shoulders in response. "To be fair your name isn't Klaus either."

He looks away. Technically speaking Klaus isn't his name. "Did you want anything?"

"Water," he mumbled, rubbing his hands over his eyes as he tried his best to sober the fuck up. It was easier said than done when he really didn't want to although he knew he should be. He's been practically kidnapped.

Where the fuck is he? A seven eleven on the edge of town with some random dude he doesn't even know? Some dude who gave him pills to lure him into this false sense of security he's feeling and fuck if he knows why he's letting it work.

Adam shuts the door and whistles as he walks into the store.

"Klaus-"

"Not now Ben. I think I'm getting a headache." He leans over, taking two pills out of the baggie in the passenger door cup holder. So much for being sober. He pops the pills in his mouth and swallows hard.

There's a pair of handcuffs on the backseat he notices. A smile forms on his lips when he thinks about the kinky fuck that owned this car. The man who had three kids and a loving wife who had some secret mistress on the side.

"You can't trust him," Ben's eyes trace the handcuffs on the floor as well and his cheeks are significantly red.

He laughs at Ben and receives a slap on his chest that does absolutely nothing but give him chills. "Fuck off," Ben bit out, eye's now looking out into the parking lot.

The driver's side door opens and Adam sits down. "Here," bottled water is pushed into his chest.

"Thanks," he said, uncapping it and gulping down a quarter of the bottle before wiping his mouth off with the back of his hand.

Adam snacked on a candy bar and said nothing. His eyes just wander over to him as he started the car, as he pushed the gas, as he drove on the main road. His eyes always seemed to be on him and what could he do but smile and look away.

The pills will set in soon enough and he won't feel a dang thing. Not the hand that has settled back on his knee, slowly creeping it's way up to his thigh. Not even the glare from Ben, the glare that says 'I expect so much more from you Klaus.'

He won't be able to feel anything soon and that's just what he likes.

...

It gets dark and as the sun sets they leave the borders of his home city and he can't help but feel his heart drop. He doesn't know why. Maybe he misses his siblings, maybe somewhere deep down he's afraid his father is going to come for him.

That has to be it.

He's afraid to be free because freedom doesn't come without a price. His father must be so furious and his siblings must be paying the price.

He feels terrible. So terrible because some where deep down he's happy that finally for once his siblings will know what it feels like to be punished for something that isn't their fault. His stomach twists and he knows he must be sick in the head, for even thinking for a single moment that his siblings being abused was something to be happy about.

He takes another pill.

He falls into a peaceful sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will I add more? I’ll ask my magic eight ball~


End file.
